The Taste of Water
by BleedingHeartTragedy
Summary: Logan was always alone. He hated it. After a failed suicide attempt, he's put on lockdown with a hospital intern watchdog, and as much as he doesn't want that forced upon him he finds himself oddly attracted to Kendall Knight. Kogan; potential Jarlos.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning:** This story contains extremely serious matters pertaining to depression, self harm, and suicidal topics. In no way shape or form is the topic being exploited and should not be taken lightly. However, if you cannot handle these sorts of themes, I please urge you not to read as this meant to be a light story, but that does not mean there won't be light parts to it as this is after all BTR verse.

**Author's Notes:** Alright, so I am finally posting my first BTR story. Now, I have been writing fanfiction for years, however, I haven't posted anything in quite some time, and this is my first break out piece for the BTR genre. And as far as first pieces go, I know this is a pretty heavy one to start with. Now, I want you all to understand that sometimes my pieces are dark and serious and other times they are light and fluffy. If anything they will always contain slash and mature themes. That is probably the only constant I will ever have. Also, this story is AU if you can't tell from the description and so the characters might be a little OOC.

Oh, and just so you know, I don't really know how to work on one story at a time, so if I don't update your favorite in a while, check out my page, I've probably been working on something new or old, depending on when you read this.

Anyway, on that note, thank you for taking the time to read this first chapter and I hope you like it. Review if you do.

* * *

Lonely: the word itself was characterized by the feeling of being alone. As if the word didn't seem depressing enough, there were times when Logan would look at the word and just see a big gaping, black hole of nothingness with no end. He hated the word. Not only because it was just a dark word, but because it was the very word that described every day of his life; unfortunately, that was just how it was, and in seventeen years, he had never known another feeling.

Logan's father was a renowned brain surgeon who was constantly traveling the country, with the occasional international trip, to give lectures or attend conventions, and thus he was rarely, if ever at home. And a part of Logan wondered if his father only visited on major holiday's – not including Logan's birthday – was because of him since his mother had died because of complications after giving birth to him. He had never known the woman, and he believed that her death was partially his fault, and for that reason, he never really knew his dad either.

Obviously, growing up, his dad had been around a bit more frequently, as he wasn't quite as well known back then, because he worked at the nearest major hospital, but Logan was still left with a nanny growing up. That woman had only been the constant thing in his life until his father felt that he was old enough to take care of himself, which for Logan, had been around age nine.

Since then he had walked himself to school, walked himself home, made sure he got his homework done, and made himself dinner. In just about any other parents' eyes, that was no way for a child to grow up. But Logan never complained. He remained silent whenever his father would be there for short periods, never protesting to a single trip or cancellation of plans that Logan had set up for the two of them. By the time he was twelve, Logan stopped trying to get his father to stick around; he had slowly become bitter towards the man, despite his constant attempts to impress him, and had decided that he was better off alone.

Recently however, the isolation of loneliness had begun to weigh on him. He was seventeen and rarely if ever left the house; if he did, it was for trips to the grocery store. Yes, Logan had gone to school, but nobody ever wanted to be his friend. He was the weird, quiet, nerdy kid that people would merely glance at and then not bother a second thought towards him. It was even that way with his teachers even though he got the highest grades in every class. At sixteen, he resorted to getting his G.E.D. and left behind the restricting confines of high school.

But Logan was seventeen, turning eighteen soon, and he had yet to apply to any colleges. It wasn't that he didn't think he would get into any of them, but he was just, in all honesty, scared. Any college worth going to was far from Minnesota, far from the home that he had gotten so attached to, that he felt so safe inside because there was no one here to ignore him, here, he could believe that he was truly alone in the universe, and it was here that he could believe the lie that it was him that rejected the world, not the other way around.

That was no way for anyone to live, and Logan realized that one rainy night about three months before his eighteenth birthday. When that realization came about, he decided to change that fact; unfortunately for him, his father had chosen that night to make a spontaneous visit to see his son, thus ensuring that his son's plan was instantly derailed.

The first thing that Logan became consciously aware of was the consistent beeping off to his side, soon followed by the fluorescent lights pressing against his eyelids. He groaned slightly as he slowly opened his eyes, trying to figure out where he was. Logan noted that he was lying in a rather stiff bed, and everything surrounding seemed unnaturally white, yet at the same time, unnaturally mellow.

It took a few more moments for the almost eighteen year old to realize that he was lying in a hospital bed. His first initial reaction was panic which caused him to shoot up from the bed wildly looking around. There was no one in the; there was no one there to explain to him what had happened. The last thing he remembered…

Logan looked down at his wrists and surely enough soft white bandages were wound tightly around them. A small, choked sound sputtered from Logan's mouth at the thought of the jagged cuts that lay beneath them. No, no, this was wrong. He wasn't supposed to be here, he wasn't supposed to be alive. What had happened?

As if to answer him, the door to his room opened and in walked a woman who appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. "Ah, good, Mr. Mitchell, you're awake," she said, giving him a bright smile.

The brunette let out an irritated huff. Was this woman delusional? It had to be clear what had happened to get him here so wouldn't she realize that the last thing he would find good in this world was being awake? However, it wasn't in Logan's nature to be snappy and so he kept his mouth shut and looked at her. She seemed to sense his frustration though.

"Okay, well I think it's good that you're awake, and hopefully, you'll agree with me on that matter soon enough. My name is Dr. Kelly Wainwright, and you are my newest patient. I'm going to fill you because I'm sure you have a lot of questions. Around eight o'clock last night you were rushed into the ER, after a 911 call from your father, with severe blood loss from both of your wrists. Obviously you were stabilized, and your recovery was monitored throughout the night. It is about four in the afternoon now."

Dr. Wainwright looked at him, her expression hiding whatever she might have been thinking as she waited for any sort of reaction from Logan. However, he merely raised one hand and rubbed at his eyes. "Is my dad still here," he asked in a tired voice.

The doctor bit her lip and shook her head, "unfortunately, he left a few hours ago. Your father had a flight to catch." Logan could hear the slight bitter tone in her voice, "however, he has given us clear instructions on what he wants, and his permission when we feel to be released."

Logan sighed, knowing that this would be the first of many, "and what instructions did my father give exactly?"

This time the doctor allowed a small ounce of worry to pass through her expression. "That's where it gets a bit tricky. Your father has expressed that he wants you to participate in some sort of rehabilitation. However, Mr. Mitchell doesn't want you in any sort of center or hospital psych. However, as your doctor, I advised him that you needed to be under constant surveillance for at least a month."

"At least a month," Logan interrupted, his voice unusually loud for him, "that's ridiculous. Can't you just keep under watch here for a couple of days and let me go?"

"Mr. Mitchell," Dr. Wainwright started, "do you understand the severity of what you did? You attempted to take your own life. We need to make sure that you're okay before we leave you alone." And sensing that Logan was going to protest once more, she quickly continued speaking. "As per your father's request, you will held here for a few days, and when you are released, someone will accompany you home and will live with you for a month to monitor your behavior. When that month is up, your file will be reviewed and then it will be decided whether you truly to go into a rehabilitation center or if you're stable enough to function on your own all you'll have to do is attend weekly sessions with a psychiatrist for whatever amount of time is needed."

Logan blinked a few times. What in the world was this woman saying? That some stranger was going to be living with him 24/7 for a month? The last thing he wanted was for some person, probably a creepy old guy, to come into his home and stare at him like a monkey in a zoo waiting for him to fling poop. "No," was all he could muster.

Dr. Wainwright sighed, "I was afraid of that. But it is the agreement that the hospital and your father have reached. And since you are still a minor, the law gives you no choice."

"So _someone_," Logan said, echoing her word, "is going to come live me with to make sure that I don't go off the edge again?" The doctor nodded her response to the question. "Why don't you just put a whole bunch of cameras in my house? Make a reality show out of it! You're taking away my privacy! My rights!"

"You gave up your rights when you tried to give up your life," she told him, her voice stern and the look on her face silencing the teen. Most doctors didn't speak that way to their patients, but most doctors were not Kelly Wainwright. All she wanted to do was help him, and because she could tell he was stubborn, bedside manner wasn't going to cut it.

* * *

Two days, Logan spent in the hospital with his only visitors being his doctor and a few different nurses. He was rather uncooperative over those days as he was not at all happy with the situation going on. And when he had tried to talk to his father over the phone, the man had merely told Logan that the stunt he pulled was not going to be taken lightly and that was that. The other thing that peeved Logan was that Dr. Wainwright had explained to him that they were actually a bit short staffed in the psych department at the hospital and so part of his stay there was because they were in search of someone they felt would be suitable enough for the month long stay. It was halfway through the second day when Logan was informed that someone had been found and the next morning he would be allowed to go home. He wasn't excited.

Logan spent most of the night before tossing and turning, trying to contemplate what it would be like to physically live with someone for a month. The last time he had anyone stay in the house with him longer than five days had been when he was thirteen and his father had been at a conference here in Minnesota, and even then, he had only been there for short periods of the day. Logan was going to have to adjust to an entirely new way of life.

Things didn't look better in the morning when a wheelchair was wheeled into his room. However, Logan was quickly distracted from the wheelchair by the person clutching onto the handles. He was tall and blonde, and even from across the room, the brunette could see how green his eyes were. Now, Logan had long ago determined that he was into guys after watching Titanic one night when he was fifteen and wishing that he had been in the backseat of that car instead of Rose. However, whoever this guy was, Leonardo DiCaprio definitely paled in comparison.

The nurse or the orderly, or whoever this new guy was, must have realized that Logan was staring at him because a strange look passed over his face. "What is it? Do I have a milk mustache or something from breakfast?"

Logan let out a strange and nervous chuckle which caused the guy to beam. "Well, you can laugh. That's a start. But really…do I have something on my face?"

"N-no," Logan said, stumbling over the single word, watching, still mesmerized, as they guy's face relaxed.

"Awesome, now, I'm going to unhook you from all of these creepy machines and you're going to hop into this chair for me and we'll head down to the car that's waiting for you."

That sentence seemed to bring the teenager slamming back into reality because he snorted. "I don't need a chair. I can walk."

The blonde shrugged as he moved to the brunette to take him off of the machines. "Doesn't matter; it is hospital policy for you to be wheeled around until you are out the front door."

Logan folded his arms across his chest stubbornly, not caring that he was acting like he was five. "Well that's a stupid policy. I can walk myself out of here."

Opening his mouth, a firm crease in the blonde's forehead, he went to challenge when Dr. Wainwright walked in to check on her patient before she left. "Kelly, will you please tell him that he has to get in the stupid wheelchair."

The woman sighed, "how many times do I have to tell you Kendall, when you're here, its Dr. Wainwright. This internship was a favor; don't make me regret it." At that, she turned to Logan, "and you do have to get in the wheelchair. I'm sorry. It's just until Kendall gets you to the car so that the two of you can head home."

Logan sighed, but then paused at realizing what his doctor had just said. "Wait, the two of us?"

Kendall raised a finger, "did I forget to explain that part?"

Dr. Wainwright groaned and smacked the blonde on the back of the head, "yes, you did. Logan, this is Kendall Knight, he's a first year grad student in psychology, and he's an intern here. …He's also the only person we could spare to take care of you for the next month."

He stared. There was no way this was right. "You cannot be serious."

"He meets your father's qualifications," she said with a slightly apologetic shrug, "and he's willing. And we figured that you'd be more comfortable with someone your own age. This will work out, I promise. Now get in the chair."

Still a little stunned, Logan finally seceded and climbed out of the bed and into the chair. "Do I at least get to change clothes?"

"Nope," Kendall said as he made sure that the boy was secure in the chair, "you can't wear what you came here in because it's all bloody."

"Kendall," Dr. Wainwright snapped sharply, "sensitivity; we talked about this."

The blonde sighed and grumbled something inaudible before steering Logan out the door. Logan meanwhile had to keep from grumbling to himself as he felt like an invalid being wheeled out of the hospital by someone that was basically going to play babysitter to him for a month. A slow, agonizing death was exactly the opposite of what Logan had wanted, and it seemed as if these next four weeks were going to be exactly that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **So, I know that I thanked all that reviewed the first chapter in Stronger Than Hate, but since I haven't posted in a while, I'm just going to give the short thanks to the first, **waterwicca**, and of course anyone else who reviewed. You guys will ultimately be what will keep me going with these stories. So REVIEW!

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Logan's arms were folded across his chest as he slouched in the passenger seat of the old beat up truck. The only words he had spoken to the intern had been clear cut directions to his house. However, his stubborn silence did nothing to deter Kendall from trying to strike up a conversation. It wasn't until they were pulling into the driveway of the Mitchell's house that he managed to get anything out of Logan.

"Are you going to pout like a big baby for this entire month?"

The brunette rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to jump for joy? I'm sitting in a junk truck, in a hospital gown, with a guy who probably doesn't have a lick of sense about what he supposed to be doing."

Kendall, being who he was, ignored the stab at his lack of competency in what was currently going on and instead climbed out of the "junk truck" and reached for the large hockey bag that was in the bed before nodding towards the large house. "And what kind of car do you have Mr. Rich Guy?"

Logan's face turned a light shade of pink at his words and he looked towards the ground. He mumbled something inaudible to Kendall before quickly starting for the front door.

"What was that?"

"I said I don't have a car," Logan shot at Kendall, a surprisingly furious look quickly hovering over his features, "I don't even have a driver's license."

Kendall raised his eyebrows and his hands in mock surrender, "alright then, touchy, touchy. It's not that big of a deal but whatever."

He followed the brunette into the foyer of the house and gazed around. It wasn't like a huge mansion or anything, but the house that Kendall grew up in would probably fit into this building probably two times, and his dingy apartment several more times than that. "So, uh, where do you want me to crash?" Kendall had directed the question towards Logan, but he found that the other boy had made his way for the stairs as fast as he could and he was disappearing down the hall without a word.

Letting out a sigh, Kendall slowly climbed the stairs to follow him. He figured that two bedrooms were off limits: Logan's and his father's. There was no way that a house like this only had two bedrooms. What he was more concerned about was how far this bedroom as going to be from Logan's. Sure they were in a house and Kendall could move fast enough but he still wanted to be close to his room. But before he could find that room, Kendall spotted Logan standing in the doorway of one of them.

Curious, the blonde went to stand beside him and peered over the shorter boy's shoulder to see what he was seeing. And when he realized what Logan was looking at, he dropped the bag from his hand and touched Logan's shoulder.

"You know, I'm sure that the hospital food wasn't very good so why don't you head down to the kitchen and eat something. I'll clean this up."

For the first time since they had met, Kendall got a cooperative nod from the teenager who turned and walked back down the hallway like a zombie. Kendall watched him and then turned back to look into what he assumed to be Logan's bedroom. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and stepped inside.

He couldn't believe that Logan's dad hadn't even bothered to clean things up before heading out of town. It boiled his blood a little, but there was no use in getting mad right now. What he needed to do was clean up the mess.

Kendall grimaced slightly at the dark stains on the sheets as he stripped them from the bed. The blood had soaked into the mattress pad and he knew that it would have to be tossed, along with the sheets. Logan might not actually be able to stay in the comfort of his own bed for the first few nights unless they had extra mattress pads lying around.

He quickly found a large garbage bag and lugged it down to his truck, throwing it in the bed, as this wasn't normal garbage and needed to be disposed of properly. When he went back into the house, he peeked in and looked at Logan who seemed to be staring at the wall as he sat on one of the stools at the island in the kitchen. He noted that there was an untouched sandwich sitting in front of him and that he was still in his hospital dressing gown.

So, Kendall once more went upstairs and into Logan's room, grabbing a change of clothes for him and heading back down to the kitchen.

"It's all cleaned up now," Kendall told him, as a way of announcing himself as he sat beside Logan, putting the clothes on the island beside the boy, "but the mattress pad had to be thrown out so unless you want to sleep on the bed as is, or if you have an extra mattress pad lying around then you might want to think about crashing somewhere else until we can get you another one."

At this, Logan shook his head, "there's only one other bed aside from my dad's and I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch. I'll be fine until I can get another one."

His voice was deadpanned, and Kendall felt his heart clench tightly in his chest at that sound but he could only imagine what it felt like for the reality of what he had really tried to do sinking in. "Well," he said softly, "why don't you go get changed and I'll make us a real lunch and when you come back we can talk about a few things."

Again, Logan didn't give any protest, but Kendall was certain that by the time he returned from changing and they began to talk, that was going to change. No teenage boy, no matter who they were, would like the fact that there were going to have to be some extreme rule changes.

Kendall set about looking through the kitchen, making a note of the small amount of food and where everything was. One thing he noticed that, as he searched through the refrigerator, there was absolutely no meat in sight.

"Are you looking for something specific," Logan asked, cutting in suddenly and startling the blonde a bit who turned around just in time to see him pull the bottom of his shirt down to cover a stretch of pale skin.

"Chicken," he said motioning back towards the fridge, "I was going to make fajitas."

"I'm a vegetarian," Logan told him as he once more settled onto one of the stools on the island.

A frown settled onto Kendall's face as he let the words sink in, "well, then I guess we're having vegetarian fajitas. Now I have to know? Would you be opposed to having meat in the house as long as you don't eat it?"

The brunette, for the second time since they met chuckled, "go ahead, eat your dead animals, I don't care. Just keep it away from me and my food."

A comfortable silence fell between the two of them as Kendall started to get the vegetables sizzling on the stove. It was nice to know that Logan could laugh at little things. It made things not seem as bad, but the blonde knew better than to take everything he saw at face value. But the silence, of course, didn't last.

"So what were those few things that you needed to talk to me about?"

Kendall paused, right, those things. He bit his lip for a moment, focusing on the food before answer Logan. "We need to set some ground rules."

He heard the long, drawn out sigh from the brunette behind him and he had to suppress himself from doing the same. This was the tricky part in having to be the one to monitor all of Logan's habits for the next month.

"I won't give you any visiting hour restrictions, but I don't want people here all of the time, and I have to know they are coming and I have to formally be introduced to them."

"Doesn't matter," Logan piped up, "nobody is going to come and see me anyway."

The blonde looked over his shoulder for a moment, noting the sadness in Logan's voice as he said this. But he passed over it wanting to get things settled now. "If you choose to go out, I have to go with you. And when I say go out I mean to the store or the movies, those kinds of things. Not like going out to get the mail."

"I don't go out."

"Will you stop interrupting me?" Kendall didn't mean to sound snippy but he was almost glad that he had because Logan made a rather childish and obscene face back at him. Shaking his head, trying not to laugh at the gesture he continued on. "No sharp objects, and if you need to shave, I have to supervise." Kendall saw Logan's mouth open to say something but he quickly moved on to the next topic, which he knew was definitely going to force the other to say something. "And all doors have to stay open at all times. Even the bathroom door."

"WHAT?"

Kendall knew that there was going to be no way that the seventeen year old wouldn't explode on that rule. Even he hadn't liked it when he had been told that he was going to have to enforce it. But it made sense. After all, Kendall needed to monitor Logan's behavior and considering he was a highly volatile subject at the moment, the chance of him doing things out of sight couldn't be risked, even though Kendall wasn't going to be hovering over him all of the time. He just needed to make sure that if he needed or wanted to see what Logan was doing that he could.

"There is no way I'm going to keep the door open when I'm sleeping let alone when I'm showering! I have spent most of my life in this house alone! And now I'm forced to live here with you for a month! I NEED MY ALONE TIME!"

"Logan, Logan, calm down," Kendall said, surprised by the outburst from the younger boy, "I know this isn't the best situation but it's for your own good."

The brunette shot up from his stool, his eyes wild with fury. "My own good? You know what would have been for my own good? Dying!"

Leaving Kendall with that cryptic statement, Logan stomped up the stairs and caused Kendall to flinch when he heard the boy's bedroom door slam.

He stood there, staring at the place that Logan had been standing moments ago, feeling extremely perturbed by the statement. Kendall was lost in thought for so long that he just barely caught the vegetables from burning.

When he had been approached about this situation by Kelly, Kendall had immediately jumped on the chance. It wasn't because he knew it would look good on any resumes he filled out after grad school, but for completely different reasons that Kelly knew would fuel him to do. The only problem was that he wasn't exactly confident in his abilities in counseling. How was he supposed to approach this situation with Logan? Sure, he had dealt with comforting people in times of depression but they were people he knew, people he understood. Kendall didn't know anything about Logan. And maybe this was just meant for him to lounge around the house for a month to watch Logan and make sure he was no longer suicidal, but that just wasn't good enough for the blonde. He wanted to help him.

Kendall knew that going after Logan right now wouldn't do anything for any sort of relationship he wanted to establish, but that door needed to be open, and he needed to make sure that Logan ate. And so he threw together a small plate of the vegetable fajitas, grabbed a glass of water and went upstairs and knocked on the shut door.

"Logan, you need to open the door," he called through the wood, "and I brought you some food."

There was no answer on the other side, and Kendall just sighed as he sank down to the floor and set the food beside him, figuring that eventually that door had to open. And as he sat there and waited, he knew this was going to be a long month.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I am so, so, so, sorry that this took so long for me to post. I have been extremely busy will school but all I have left are finals so I will be free for the summer and updating my stories like crazy. I promise. And there will also be a lot of new stories coming your way as well.

Anyway, a quick note about this story and how often I will post. This could be a long drawn out story because it is going to move kind of slow and it is actually pretty difficult to write. So I ask that if you are still a fan after this chapter, then please be patient and don't abandon it!

Also, for those that are also fans of Stronger Than Hate, a new chapter may be coming soon, I won't make any promises, or I could be posting a new story. I warned that I can't work on just one story at a time.

REVIEW! Please?


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